Bridges
by Dawn N
Summary: Dean wakes up in the ICU only to learn that his nightmare has just begun as Sam clings to life.
1. Bridges

Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural were created by Eric Kripke and are owned by the CW Network. No Profit is being made.

**NOTE TO READERS:** Okay, first off. Yes, this story has Ellen and Jo in it, but I'm not a fan of the Jo/Dean hook-up route, so don't look for undying love happening here. But, I am however, a supporter of the roadhouse only because as much as I love the brother dynamic on the show it's nice to know they aren't completely alone in the world. They have a place to fall back on. Yes, "No Exit" sort of left it with the notion the boys may stay gone for a while after the parting words between Jo and Dean. But, having read spoilers and script sides … I know that at least Ellen is back for episode 10. Anyway, I don't dislike the roadhouse, although, I don't want to always have them there, and I'm very anti Jo and Dean becoming involved. Friends yes, maybe even confidants to a degree, but a relationship, nope, no way.

I base Ellen's behavior with Sam in this story with her interactions with him in person and on the phone. Like in "Bloodlust" she called him 'sweetie.'

**Bridges**

By Dawn Nyberg

Ellen wiped the bar down as the juke box blared on and the hum of activity filled the roadhouse. It was a busy night and the place was full. Hunters were eating, drinking; playing pool and poker, and some cleaned their weapons and shared hunting stories. Ellen looked at the calendar and her mind went to the Winchester boys, John's boys. She had been angry with herself in telling Jo about what had happened all those years ago. It was wrong to put the sins of the father on the boys, but she had inadvertently done so anyway. Jo had been angry and had told Dean to 'just go' … Ellen remembered hearing the Impala start up and pull out. She hadn't seen nor heard from either Sam or Dean in three months. She wished one of them would call or they'd come back. She worried about them and wished she could undo what had been said months ago. Dean had kept his promise. He had saved Jo. He got her back alive. Ellen glanced at Jo across the bar delivering some long neck beers. Her thoughts were broken by the bar phone ringing.

"Harvelle's Roadhouse."

"Yes, may I speak to?" there was a pause as if the person on the other end was searching for the information or reading it. "I need to speak with an Ellen Harvelle, please."

"This is she," Ellen answered bluntly. She had things to do and this person was wasting her time by not cutting to the chase. "Look if this is a sales call…" she was cut off.

"No," the voice assured. "I'm Dr. Rosen calling from Tempe Medical Center in Tempe, Arizona. Your business card was found inside the wallet of a trauma victim that was taken into surgery. I'm hoping you might be able to provide some information toward contacting his family. Ellen felt a cold heaviness fill her. She covered an ear to block out the loud music in the bar and focused on the doctor's voice.

"Who?" Ellen barked into the phone. "Who's hurt?"

"Do you know a Sam Connors?"

"Oh, God, Sam!" Ellen squeezed the phone. The last name was obviously a fake ID, but she knew who he was talking about. "How bad is he hurt?" Her voice was demanding. Her mind already spinning … _why wasn't Dean there to answers the questions about Sam_.

"Are you family? I can't provide specific information unless…" the doctor was cut off. Ellen thought on her feet quickly.

"Yes, I'm their aunt. I haven't seen the boys for awhile. How badly is he hurt?" Jo had walked up to the bar and heard the worried timbre in her mother's voice and listened.

"Sam," the doctor began. "As I said was taken into surgery and we found your business card with his ID. He has some extensive internal injuries with internal bleeding. He is in critical condition. The surgeons are doing everything they can for him."

"Everything they can?" Ellen barked. "That boy is only twenty-three years old. They better damn well be doing a hell of a lot more than their everything! His older brother," Ellen's tone was urgent. "Where's Dean?"

"He's been moved to the ICU. He was stabilized in the ER."

"ICU," Ellen hissed into the phone. "What's wrong?"

"He suffered some severe contusions to the chest and abdomen. He is being watched for signs of internal bleeding, but right now his blood counts are holding. He suffered a head injury. He has a severe concussion, but there is no sign of skull fracture or hemorrhage, and that's good. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, but I'm hopeful he will once his body gets a chance to recoup."

"What the hell happened?"

"The police and park rangers say it must have been a bear attack or something. There have been some deaths in the recent weeks of hikers at one of the wilderness hiking areas. They think there could have been more than one animal. I do know the park ranger said they found the remains of a burnt carcass of something, but it was mostly ash and bone fragments. They think one of the boys may have shot it with a flare gun."

"Jesus," Ellen hissed under her breath. She wasn't stupid, it sounded like a wendigo, but she couldn't be sure until she talked to one of the boys. "I'm taking the first flight out. I'll be there soon." Ellen jotted down some notes and gave the doctor her cell phone number should there be new information on the boys or if … _God forbid one of them dies_, her mind closed off to that idea.

"Mom? Mom what is it?"

"It's Sam and Dean," she began. "They've been hurt. It was a hospital in Tempe. Sounds bad." Ellen saw the flicker of indifference cross her daughter's face and then it was gone quickly replaced by an honest worry. "Jo," she spoke softly to her daughter. "Dean and Sam … we shouldn't make them carry the burden of someone else's mistake." Jo nodded. Dean and Sam had saved her life from Holmes and she knew that in truth her anger should have never been directed at Dean that day outside the roadhouse.

"I know. Come on," her voice strong and sure. Ellen had announced that the place was closing up, and had left Ash strict instructions to not stray far from the bar in case his talents of research were needed for any reason at all.

**Tempe Medical Center, Tempe, Arizona, Mid Morning**

It was a short flight from Nebraska to Arizona. Ellen sat stoically next to Sam's bed. He had survived the surgery, but the doctor's hadn't been very hopeful. Sam's heart had stopped once during surgery and again last night in the ICU. He was barely hanging on. She watched the multiple IV lines pumping various fluids into Sam, and one tube she noted with trepidation. It was feeding blood into Sam. His counts were still too low, and they had found another slow bleed, but had to close up to wait until he was stronger to endure more surgery. Now they were merely trying to balance Sam's life against some wait or proceed notion, and the doctor's weren't ready to go back in yet. Both of Sam's surgeons had explained that it was a delicate dance of letting Sam gain some strength before going back in. They had discovered a laceration on the backside of Sam's liver, and they were hoping it would clot itself off if given time, but if it didn't they'd have to open him back up and go in. They had told Ellen they would have sutured the laceration while still in surgery, but Sam's cardiac status had been tenuous at best during surgery and when he arrested that had decided for them. They pulled out and tied off the major bleeders and ended the surgery.

Ellen stared at Sam's pale, lax face and she ached. She thought of John and despite everything she had told the truth to the boys that day they first met, _John was like family once_ and now all that was left of him were his boys. She wanted to try building a bridge back to the boys and to work through the words said months ago. She had left Jo to sit with Dean two rooms down from his brother. He hadn't regained consciousness yet, but the doctor's had assured her that he was making purposeful movements and they expected him to wake up soon. She turned her attention back to Sam. "Listen sweetie," Ellen spoke softly. "You have to keep fighting okay. Your brother needs you. And, well," her voice trailed off. "You're just too damn young, okay? You fight as hard as you can."

Jo sat next to Dean's bed and was sure she had memorized every subtle feature. Her gift shop bought magazine had long since been discarded in a chair alongside the wall. She sat back in her chair watching, but not touching Dean. There was a rustle and she leaned forward. She watched as Dean's eyes slowly opened. He squinted against the overhead light on his bed. "Dean?" He turned his head toward the mention of his name. He stared at Jo for a long moment trying to process what he was seeing. She offered a rueful smile. "Yeah, it's really me," she replied with a soft voice. "Just take it easy, okay. You got pretty banged up and the doctor says you've got one hell of a concussion." Dean still didn't understand why Jo was here or how for that matter. He tried to remember what he was doing last that could have ended him up here, and then he remembered with horrific clarity … a wendigo on top of Sam. Blood. Sam screaming. Horrible screaming. And, he had managed to fire a flare gun at the beast before darkness had claimed him.

"Sam?" Dean tried to sit up, but the pain pushed him back down before Jo could. He turned desperate eyes toward Jo. And, what he saw in her face at the mention of his brother's name caused a sudden fear to possess him causing a cold sweat to bead beneath his hospital gown. "Where's Sam?" He rasped out as the pain flared across his chest and abdomen.

"Dean," Jo's voice unsure.

"Dammit! Where's Sam?" He hissed as his heart hammered against his sternum.

**To Be Continued**

**Well, I had intended this to be a quick one shot, but as you can see … it's going to be a chapter story. I'm thinking maybe five chapters or less. So, this won't be a long project … at least not like my last chapter story. **

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	2. Leaning into Trust

Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

**NOTE TO READERS:** Thank you for the reviews of chapter one. I was happy to read the various comments regarding the use of Ellen and Jo in this story. Of course, I provided my general views/thoughts about them and the roadhouse in chapter one. I can allay any fears from a couple reviewers concerning the girls … this story will not at any point turn into a character assignation of either Ellen or Jo.

**Chapter Two**

**Leaning into Trust**

By Dawn Nyberg

"Dammit! Where's Sam?" He hissed as his heart hammered against his sternum.

"Calm down," Jo raised her tone. "He's two rooms down, okay? My mom's with him." Jo assured.

"How bad is he hurt?" Dean's eyes were pleading. Jo debated on how much to tell him and then she wasn't so sure she should be the one to do it. She stood up.

"I'll get my mom, okay? I'll sit with Sam until she's done talking to you." Dean reached a weak hand out to her and grabbed her wrist gently as she past by the bed.

"Please," he hated that his voice sounded like he was begging, but he had to know.

"I'll get my mom," her eyes conveyed some hidden fear to Dean and he knew it was bad. So bad she couldn't find it in herself to tell him. He released her wrist. Jo hurried down to Sam's room. Ellen's eyes shot up to meet her daughter's.

"Is it Dean?" she asked urgently. "Has something happened?"

"Mom it's alright," Jo replied. "He's awake. He wants to know about Sam." Jo cast her eyes toward Sam's still form in the bed. "You need to tell him. I can't. I'll stay with Sam." Ellen hated leaving the young man's side afraid he'd slip away while not under her watchful eye. Things hadn't improved and his blood counts continued to drop and the blood transfusions and fluids seemed almost constant. Ellen stood up.

"Joanna Beth," her voice assertive. "You stay with him and if anything at all happens you come get me understand?"

"Okay."

Ellen walked to Dean's room. His eyes were closed and his mouth drawn tight in pain when she walked in. Her motherly button was immediately pushed. "He needs some pain medication or something," she barked to a resident filling out a chart. Dean opened his eyes when her heard Ellen's voice and saw her pointing to his room. "Dean," she spoke firmly. "Hun, they are going to give you something for the pain, okay?"

"Ellen, please…" his voice begged. "Sam? How is he?" He didn't care that his chest and abdomen felt like a white hot poker was twisting inside him. She sat down and edged the chair up to the bed. Dean tried to move and hissed despite his best efforts.

"Stop Dean," she barked. "Now you lay still boy," she commanded. "You've been seriously hurt and moving around isn't good."

"I don't care about me. Dammit, what's wrong with Sammy?" Before Ellen could answer him a nurse came in and injected some pain medication into Dean's IV.

"This should take the edge off. We're trying not to sedate you until we've had your concussion reevaluated after waking up." The young nurse replied softly. Ellen and Dean both acknowledged her with a nod.

"Dean," Ellen began. She knew she had to cut to the chase with Dean. "Sam's in rough shape. He had surgery for internal bleeding, but there were some complications in surgery and they had to close him up." She watched Dean and could see he was hanging on every word, so she continued when he asked no questions. "They found a laceration on the back side of his liver, but they couldn't suture it."

"Why not?" Ellen took a steadying breath.

"Because Sam's heart stopped during surgery and he was too weak for them to keep operating. They are hoping the laceration clots itself off, but things aren't looking too great. His blood counts are still dropping and he's still requiring blood transfusions. They'll probably be taking him back into surgery at some point. I haven't heard yet." Ellen paused. "Dean when I got here this morning they told me that Sam's heart had stopped again later last night once he was back in his room. But, he's fighting."

"I want to see him." Before she could respond Dean and Sam's doctor interrupted them.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible Mr. Connors. You're in no shape to move right now and in doing so you could put your health at risk."

"Call me Dean." He replied. "And, you're not hearing me," Dean's tone was deadly. "I want to see my brother. I don't give a rat's ass about myself." The doctor offered a knowing smile.

"I understand the need," he assured. "I do, but your contusions are quite severe. You're being monitored for the possible development of internal bleeding and moving around could cause a complication that would send you to the OR, and that's something I'm trying to avoid." The doctor decided to use his trump card. "You won't be any good to your brother if you send yourself into surgery."

The doctor gave Dean a neuro exam at his bed. "Your aunt has been a task master while you were unconscious," the doctor smiled at Ellen. "She's been keeping the staff on their toes where you and your brother were concerned." Dean shared a look with Ellen, but didn't contradict the mention of her as their aunt. "I'm going to order another CT for you to be on the safe side."

"My," Dean began and paused. "My, Uh, aunt said Sam might need more surgery because his liver is cut or something."

The doctor looked from Dean to Ellen and back to the young man. "It's been decided that he will need the surgery and they will be prepping him within the hour to go back into surgery. His counts continue to drop. We had hoped his body would have more of a chance to recoup, but realistically it isn't happening. His vitals are getting more erratic and weak."

"Dr. Rosen," Ellen interjected. She felt like a cold hard rock had just been dropped into her stomach. "But, if he's so weak," she stopped. "Are you sure?"

"No options really at this point. The abdominal ultra sound we did early this morning has confirmed some other problems, but I wanted to make sure and had the scans analyzed."

"What problems?" Both Ellen and Dean asked in unison.

"His blood counts are low and he's developing some clotting difficulties. We've detected signs that a few of the internal sutures are seeping and he is losing additional blood. And, the most recent scan from two hours ago indicated that there may be an immerging bleeding problem from his spleen."

"Why was that missed before?" Ellen felt like she was about to go on the war path. _If the doctors had missed something and Sam died … God help these people._ Her mind was already plotting.

"It wasn't really missed," the doctor countered. "It was another hidden laceration that had successfully clotted off on its own before we opened him. Now, that his blood counts are dropping and with the constant transfusions the clot has apparently begun to degrade and he has signs of active bleeding from the spleen."

"Doc," Dean's voice was firm. "Look, all this medical stuff I appreciate it, but I just want to know about my brother. He's weak, but he's going to be okay once he's fixed up, right?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," the doctor began. "Your brother is in extremely critical condition Dean. We're doing everything that is medically possible for him." Dean looked away knowing silently what he was saying. _Sammy could die. _He took a breath and met the doctor's eyes.

"Doc, please is there some way I can see Sam before the surgery? It's just…" The doctor knew that the odds weren't with the younger brother surviving the surgery, and this brief visit may be the older brother's last chance to see his little brother alive, albeit unconscious and on life support.

"Alright," he conceded. "But, we're going to have to move you carefully into a wheel chair, okay? And, you let the nurse and aide do all of the work. I don't want you straining unnecessarily."

"Whatever you say Doc," Dean agreed. "I just want to see my brother."

"I'll go get your nurse and an aide to help. Now just stay as you are and I'll be back to help get you to your brother's room. The visit won't be long."

"I'll take what I can get," Dean conceded.

**Twenty Minutes Later, Sam's ICU Room**

Dean sat alone with Sam holding his cool slack hand in his own. "Geez, Sammy," Dean smiled softly. "You get that damn cast off three weeks ago, and you can't wait to get hurt again," he chided softly as he stroked his brother's hand. "I'm sorry I screwed up Sammy. It's my fault you were hurt. It should be me in this shape and not you." Dean stared at all of the equipment keeping his brother alive and tried to ignore the constant click and whoosh noise from the ventilator breathing for his little brother. He watched the unsteady blips crossing the heart monitor screen. He saw Sam's heart rate fluctuate between 54 and 50. He knew Sam was clinging, he was fighting, but for how long. "Please, Sammy," Dean's voice caught in his throat. Large tears welled and broke rolling down his cheeks. "Sammy, I can't lose you, too. You hear me? I can't," his voice pleaded and suddenly his tone dropped … urgent … angry … and then emphatically, "I won't."

"Dean," Ellen's voice was soft at the doorway. "They're here to take Sam to surgery." Dean cast his eyes toward the woman and nodded.

"You hold on Sammy," Dean squeezed his little brother's hand gently. He leaned forward despite the pain that laced through him as he did so and whispered into Sam's ear. Private words meant only for the two brothers. "Don't leave me, kiddo." Dean ran a hand through his brother's long and unruly bangs. Dean watched the OR staff take his brother away until he was out of sight.

"Dean," Ellen hazarded a touch. She placed her hand on his shoulder trying to offer some kind of support. Dean looked at her, but didn't withdraw from the tentative touch she offered. "The doctor wants you back in bed," she encouraged. The nurse and aide walked in to wheel him back to his room. Dr. Rosen appeared in the doorway.

"Okay, let's get you back to your room."

Dean was resettled in his room. "I'm going to order an ultra sound and a new blood count just to be on the safe side. I want to make sure you didn't do any more damage."

"Doc," Dean stopped the man before he left his room. "When will we know about Sam?"

"The surgery could take a few hours depending on the additional bleeders that may have developed. When I have any news I'll let you know. The CT staff will be up in an hour to take you down on a gurney for a new scan."

"I want to be here for information," Dean complained.

"There won't be any updates for a while and you need this."

"Dean just let them," Ellen encouraged from the door making an attempt not to sound like she was trying to dictate to him. Jo stood quietly behind her mother.

**Two Hours Later**

Ellen and Dean sat in a slightly tense, yet companionable silence. Jo had gone to get her mother a coffee in the cafeteria. "Dean," Ellen decided to break the silence and tension.

"Yeah," he answered absently. His CT scan had been negative and there hadn't been any complications from his short visit to see Sam before he left for surgery. He was in a lot of pain, but had declined anything stronger until he had word about his little brother.

"This isn't the time, but I'm not sure there ever would be," she began. "Hell," she grumbled. "This isn't coming out right."

"It's okay," Dean offered without looking at Ellen.

"No," she replied. "Look, Jo took out her anger out on you, and I shouldn't have told her, I… it's just that almost losing her on that hunt. I just…"

"I kept my promise," Dean answered quietly. Ellen smiled despite her best effort not to.

"Yeah, yeah you did," she replied. "Dean, I was wrong to say what I did. You boys aren't to blame for anything. And, if you hadn't been there for Jo," she paused. "I would have lost my daughter."

"I lied to you back then. I should have hauled her ass right back to the roadhouse. It was my fault she was taken," Dean offered.

"Yes, her ass should have been hauled back, but what is done is done. And," Ellen looked at Dean. "If it happens again I will kick your ass into the next decade. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Dean answered. "Thanks," his voice soft.

"For what?"

"Sitting with Sammy when I couldn't and for bein' there."

"No thanks needed. Look I know I had a rocky history with your daddy, but I really did mean it when I said John was like family once. And, you boys," Ellen met Dean's eyes. "Your John's boys and despite anything else … I got your backs. I know you and I haven't exactly been like butter and toast, but I'd like to try." Ellen paused a moment. "Trust doesn't come easy for our kind," she looked at Dean. He understood what she was implying. Trust didn't come easy among hunters and family of hunters. "But, I'd like to try," she offered. Dean nodded.

"How do you think Sammy's surgery is going? It's been two hours." Dean changed the subject. He had allowed the small mental distraction of casual conversation, but now his mind returned to thoughts of his brother.

"I'm sure when there is some news Dr. Rosen will tell us."

**Meanwhile, the OR**

"Dammit this kid's lost so much blood volume. Increase the rapid infuser."

"Dr. Paquet he's bleeding out faster than we can replace it," the young surgery intern replied to his mentor.

"The liver sutures are holding. The spleen bleeding is stopped," the doctor was speaking out loud more of a mental check list. "Christ, here we go again. Friggin' bleeders. He's bleeding like a stuck pig. Just when I think we're in the clear. Damn get some clotting factor in this kid."

"His blood pressure is bottoming out." The anesthesiologist called out.

"Lost his pulse," the young intern barked out before anyone else could.

"Start compressions," Dr. Paquet ordered. "I've got damage control with the bleeders. Just get his heart started again. Come on people hustle," the doctor commanded.

The OR was a flurry of activity. One noise was heard above everything else. The solid wail of the heart monitor indicating that Sam Winchester's heart wasn't beating.

**To Be Continued**

**I hope you liked the newest chapter. I'm still holding to the five chapters total and I'm pretty sure I can keep to that quote. Thanks again for all of the reviews to chapter one. Let me know what you thought of this update.**

**READ and REVIEW!**


	3. Holding the Light

Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

**NOTE TO READERS:** I've been amazed at the number of reviews this story has received so far. Thank you! Also, I wanted to say thanks for all of the positive comments and reviews toward the way I've written Ellen and Jo. I still hold true my comments in chapter one, but I'm happy to hear that I'm portraying them in a positive light and surprisingly a lot of readers are very happy with the Dean and Ellen moments. I'm glad. At any rate, I just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to review and comment. I appreciate it.

**Chapter Three**

**Holding the Light**

By Dawn Nyberg

The OR was a flurry of activity. One noise was heard above everything else. The solid wail of the heart monitor indicating Sam Winchester's heart wasn't beating.

"He's not responding," the young intern panted as he continued compressions while his mentor continued to locate, suture and cauterize bleeders as he found them.

"Push another high dose Epi," Dr. Paquet called out as he continued to work.

The room was at a fever pitch. The OR had turned into a battle ground for a young life. It was clear that Sam was slipping and Dr. Paquet hated to lose.

"Dr. Paquet, he's still flat. I'm not getting anything."

"Be more aggressive with your compressions. Push an amp of atropine. Circulate the meds." The doctor barked as he continued to work. He finally felt like he was getting ahead of the snowball effect happening until another problem developed. "Damn the liver sutures are oozing," the doctor complained.

"He's in V-Fib," the intern suddenly shouted.

"Give me the damn paddles," Dr. Paquet yelled. "Set at 360. Clear!" He applied the paddles to Sam's chest and watched the young man's body jerk upward as the shock entered his body. Everyone looked at the monitor. "Dammit, come on kid. Charge to 450! Clear!" Sam lurched upward yet again.

"Holy crap, we got him. It's a weak pulse, but…"

"But, nothing," Dr. Paquet commented as he returned to his work inside Sam's abdomen. "Something is better than nothing. Now you just keep his heart beating." The doctor looked around Sam's abdomen and sponged and suctioned. "How the hell," the doctor barked to himself as he continued to examine Sam's oozing liver.

"What?" The intern asked. "Maybe it'll clot. The clotting factor we gave him seems to be slowly taking effect." His mentor shook his head.

"This isn't going to clot," he lifted Sam's liver and pointed to yet another laceration buried along the anterior side of a small part of his liver. "I'm going to have to remove a small portion of his liver."

"His blood pressure is dropping again," the anesthesiologist notified.

"Push an Epi bolus," Dr. Paquet ordered. "I just need another thirty minutes. Keep him going."

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Paquet surveyed his completed work and noted that he saw no new bleeding or oozing after the partial lobe removal. "I'm ready to close up. Looks good. How's his pressure?"

"Well," the intern began. "He's got one."

"That's something," the seasoned surgeon replied to his young intern. "I want a new blood count on this kid even before he goes to recovery. And, I want him to have type specific transfusions until his levels are stabilized." The intern nodded. He drew a blood sample from an IV port quickly. Dr. Paquet continued to suture Sam's surgical site closed.

**Meanwhile, twenty-minutes later in the ICU, Dean's Room**

Dr. Rosen walked into Dean's room. Ellen and Jo both looked up. Dean despite his best efforts to not fall asleep had done just that about an hour ago. "You have news?" Ellen whispered as she stood up. Dean even with the extreme fatigue of his injured body woke immediately at the sound of movement and Ellen's voice. Once a hunter always a hunter.

"Sam? How's my brother?" Dean cleared his voice looking at the doctor.

"He's in recovery. His condition remains critical. They almost lost him in the OR, but were able to resuscitate." Dean fought to control his emotions at hearing his brother's heart had stopped yet again. Dean interrupted the doctor.

"The bleeding," he began. "Was the doc able to stop it all?" Both Ellen and Jo listened intently.

"Yes, it appears so. They were able to give Sam some clotting factor and it finally began to help. Unfortunately, Dr. Paquet discovered another laceration in Sam's liver that was hidden and he was forced to remove a portion of your brother's liver." Dean felt the bile creep up his throat, but he forced it back down. Dr. Rosen noticed the stricken faces of everyone in the room. "But," he added quickly. "He's not going to miss it. In fact, the liver can actually grow new liver tissue over time. And, given enough time his liver will be the way it was before the partial removal." The tension eased only a fraction.

"You said," Ellen started. "Sam's heart stopped again," she took a breath. "Has there been any damage to his heart?"

"Nothing permanent. He suffered a cardiac contusion in the animal attack, but it wasn't severe. The cardiac arrests are almost assuredly caused from the blood pressure issues, and blood loss. He's a fighter."

"How long will he be in recovery?" Ellen asked and Dean felt glad for the woman's presence. She was asking questions he wanted to, but he just couldn't find his voice as often as he needed it.

"I suspect a couple hours or so. He's had major surgery. They are monitoring his blood counts closely and they aren't taking any chances right now."

"But, he's stable," Dean hedged.

"I wish I could say yes to that Dean," Dr. Rosen answered honestly. "He survived the surgery and he's holding his own. He's alive and let's work with that for now, okay?" Dean felt like a deflated balloon. He was desperate and his emotions were griping his chest like a vise. Ellen could almost feel Dean's fear and desperation as she reached out without really thinking and dropped a hand on his forearm patting it gently and then resting it there for a brief moment to offer a reassuring squeeze.

"Will he be taken back to his room after recovery?" Ellen asked the doctor as she gave one more quick squeeze and released Dean's arm.

"Yes, once they feel he is stable enough for transport and his blood counts aren't showing any signs of going down Sam will be returned to his room."

"What if his counts drop again?" Ellen voice was insistent.

"Then they may be forced to take him back into surgery."

"What? No!" Dean barked suddenly. "How much more do you expect him to take? He almost died in there. He goes back in there … he'll die. You people will kill him," Dean hissed violently as his own heart monitor beeped wildly.

"Dean, Hun, calm down," Ellen tried to urge gently and when that didn't work she had no other choice. "Dean!" she barked. "Calm down now," she commanded. "You can't fall apart now when Sam is going to need you," she met Dean's frantic eyes. "And, he will be needing you," she asserted as her eyes softened. It had been a simple reassurance, but he'd take it. There was something in her eyes that made Dean believe and he clung to that hope.

"Dean," Dr. Rosen began tentatively as he made sure his patients heart rate had adequately dropped into normal limits. "How about this…" the doctor offered. "Once Sam is back in his room I'll see about letting you sit with him for a while. Your recent blood counts were good, and as long as you're still willing to accept your physical limitations right now and follow my orders, or," he paused with a smile and looked from Dean to Ellen, "or your aunt's gentle direction then I'll let you have some time with your brother. Deal?"

"Thanks Doc."

"Deal?" Dr. Rosen needed to hear it from Dean. "You'll follow doctor's orders?"

"Yeah, whatever I gotta do to see Sam."

"Good. Now get some rest. Sam will be in recovery for at least two hours I suspect if not longer." Dean nodded.

The room was silent for a long moment and then Ellen spoke. "Jo Beth keep Dean company while I run to the bathroom."

"Yeah, okay."

Dean and Jo sat in silence. He didn't feel like closing his eyes just yet, and Jo seemed entranced with picking at her fingernail cuticles. Dean just stared straight ahead and watched the busy activity in the ICU unit through the large window between his room and the unit.

"Dean?" her voice was soft and held no cockiness to it that he was used to, in fact she sounded nervous. Dean turned his head met eyes with Jo.

"Yeah?"

"About what I said," she began with hesitation. "Back at the roadhouse … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken everything out on you. You didn't do anything." Dean squinted at her for a long moment and then proceeded to look around the room with an air of observation. "What are you doing?" Jo questioned as she looked wherever he looked. "Well?" she asked.

"I'm lookin' for the candid camera," Dean replied with a soft smile. Jo realized it was Dean Winchester's version of an olive branch.

"Ha-ha very funny," she complained. "So we're okay?"

"Yeah," Dean answered quietly. He was silently happy for the brief moment of levity her apology offered. "So how bad did that hurt," he countered lightly referring to the apology.

"You have no idea," she replied with a rueful smile.

"And, I thought I might have to referee when I got back?" Ellen mused from the doorway. Jo shrugged at her mother.

"Nah, Mom, we're good." Dean nodded.

**Four Hours Later, Sam's ICU Room**

Dean sat watching his brother. He was glad they were all leaving him alone with his little brother. A nurse came in every 10 minutes or so to check various fluid levels, drains, and tubes coming from or going into Sam. "Sammy," Dean's voice was soft as he held his little brother's hand. "The doc says you're fighting," his voice shook. "I know you gotta be tired little brother, but you can't let go, okay? I can't do this without you." Dean ignored his own pain as he reached up to stroke his brother's chestnut colored hair. He watched the mechanical rise and fall of his sibling's chest. His face was pale and his lips almost colorless. He found himself staring at his brother's dark eyelashes and wished desperately that they'd flutter and his brother would open his eyes, but nothing happened.

Dean held Sam's hand tightly within his own trying to infuse some of his own warmth into his brother's cold, slack hand. "This is so fucked Sam," Dean choked as he fought to contain a sob. He felt his little brother's light flickering and if that light was lost he knew he'd never find his way out of the darkness. Sam had always shown a light in his big brother's shadows and kept the darkness inside him at bay. Sam was his hope, his light. Dean clung to his brother; he clung to the light that was Sammy. "I'm not letting you go," Dean whispered to his brother as he fought back the tears. It was a losing battle against the wet tracks that cascaded down his face.

"Dean?" Dr. Rosen spoke softly from the door. He could feel he was intruding on a private moment between the brothers. Dean glanced at the doctor, but he returned his eyes to his brother. "We should get you back to your bed. You've been with Sam for a half hour now. You need to rest and I'm ordering another blood count for you. We need to do some things for your brother."

"What?" Dean turned sharp eyes toward his and Sam's doctor.

"We need to take new blood counts on Sam and the surgeon is coming in to check and change out some tubing and drains. Also, the nurse needs to do some things for him."

"I want to stay."

"I'm sure you do, but remember our deal. After I make sure you're not doing damage to yourself and you get some rest … I promise you can sit with Sam again."

"My blood counts are fine. They have been every time. Just let me stay."

"Dean the last time I checked I'm the one that's your doctor and I think you're so focused on your brother that you could care less about yourself." Dean interrupted him.

"Nothing wrong with that," he hissed. "He's my little brother. He…" Dean wasn't aloud to finish.

"Dean," Ellen's voice spoke up over the two men. "Please, you know Sam wouldn't want you to push yourself. And, what if he's hearing all of this? You want him to worry about you while all his energy should be directed toward getting well." Dean looked at her. When did she become so pragmatic? She smiled ever so slightly. "So, move your ass kiddo," she chimed softly. Now that was the Ellen Dean was familiar with.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean cast one last look at Sam before they started to wheel him back to his room. "Hey Doc?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Yes?"

"When should Sam be waking up?"

"His body has been through a lot and he's also been given a mild sedative to keep him out for a while. He has a lot of healing to do. It may be a couple days before he wakes up," he paused. "Or longer, it'll depend on Sam when it comes down to it."

Dean nodded.

**Two Hours Later, Dean's ICU Room**

Dean stirred and opened his eyes and saw Jo leaning into her hand with her eyes closed. He hated that he'd fallen asleep. He looked around the room briefly and quickly saw Ellen wasn't there. "Where's your mom?" His voice startled Jo.

"Sitting with Sam for a little bit. She told me to get her when you woke up."

"Is Sam okay? Did something happen?" Dean struggled to try and sit up, but again the pain pulled him back down. "Dammit!" He pounded his fist against the mattress in frustration over how his body was betraying him and letting Sam down. He should be with his brother.

"Hey, take it easy there," Jo stood up from her seat. "He's the same. I'll get my mom." She left the room quickly and Dean recognized her coping mechanisms were close to his own. His theory being if you bob and weave enough maybe you can avoid the uncomfortable moments. The theory sucked, but he'd never admit it out loud.

"Dean?" Ellen appeared in the doorway alone. "I had Jo sit with Sam." Ellen assured the older brother. She wanted to make sure that he knew Sam wasn't alone.

"How is he? Jo said he was the same. I want to see him."

"Yeah, well your blood pressure is lower than the doctor would like, so you've been grounded until it comes back up. So, you need to rest. You're pushing too hard. Sam is holding his own right now."

"Don't you get it," Dean hissed. "It's my fault. That damn wendigo," he paused. "It should be me in that shape. Sammy got its attention away from me. That fucking hunt was my idea. He's lying in there fighting for his life. Don't you understand," Dean barked. "If something happens to him … I … I… did this to him."

"Shut your mouth Dean," Ellen warned. "That boy is alive because of you. If you hadn't stayed conscious long enough to fire that flare gun he'd be dead and you right along with him. The doctor couldn't even believe you stayed conscious long enough to do anything because your concussion is so severe. Sam is alive because of you, so no more of that self blaming crap, you hear me?"

"You call that living," Dean replied with venom. "He's plugged into so much shit you can hardly find him under it all. He's not even breathing on his own … no a fucking tube down his throat hooked to a machine is doing that for him. And, his liver, hell, you heard the doc … they had to take out some. His liver for Christ sake! What if …" his voice trailed off as he felt his eyes begin to sting as he fought the tears. He wouldn't cry in front of Ellen.

"Dean," her voice softened as she saw his internal struggle play out across his face and in his eyes. "Look," she sat down next to him. "No what ifs, alright? Maybe, there could be some set back, maybe not. And, you heard Dr. Rosen, he said Sam's liver will heal given time." She urged. "He's alive now, and you still have your brother." Ellen and Dean sat silently with one another for long minutes. In many ways they were being silent comfort for the other. He was silently glad she was here for Sammy and for him.

Jo appeared in the doorway suddenly. Ellen and Dean both looked at her and saw the distress in her eyes. And, the flurry of activity running by Dean's room window set both Ellen and Dean's heart's racing. And, Jo's fearful words shattered the tenuous moment, "Something's wrong with Sam."

**To Be Continued**

**Well, let me know what you're thinking. I know another cliffhanger, sorry! Only two more chapters to go and this story will be done. Thanks again!**

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	4. The Dark Backward

Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

**NOTE TO READERS:** Thanks for the review! I have made an effort to reply to everyone that takes the time to review. I do appreciate it. Again, I'm surprised how many readers are enjoying my characterization of Ellen and Jo in this story. Thank you for your comments and observations.

**Chapter Four**

**The Dark Backward**

By Dawn Nyberg

Jo appeared in the doorway suddenly. Ellen and Dean both looked at her and saw the distress in her eyes. And, the flurry of activity running by Dean's room window set both Ellen and Dean's heart's racing. And, Jo's fearful words shattered the tenuous moment, "Something's wrong with Sam."

Ellen stood abruptly her hand immediately going to Dean's chest as she anticipated him try to lurch up into a sitting position. Dean felt like a pinned butterfly, but relented in part to her gentle force and his pain. "What happened?" Ellen barked. "Jo?" Her daughter shifted panicked eyes from her mother to Dean and settled on her mom again.

"Dammit," Dean growled. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Jo blurted. "Machines started making noises and then they shoved me out." Dean turned agonized eyes to Ellen. She nodded knowing silently what Dean was asking.

"I'll go find out. You stay put," she ordered lightly. Dean gave her a clipped nod. "Joanna Beth sit your backside down and make sure he doesn't try anything stupid." Ellen left quickly.

**10 Minutes Later**

"What's taking so damn long?" Dean hissed. "Can you see your mom out there?" Dean asked as he watched Jo leaning back in her chair trying to see out the window to Sam's room.

"I just see people coming and going. I saw some machines, maybe an ultrasound thingy. I don't see my mom."

"Go find her. I gotta know what's happening with Sam."

"Dean," Jo started. "You know she'll come back as soon as she's asked the doctors everything under the sun."

"It's just…" his voice trailed off as he stared at a small fray in his cover and started playing with it out of nerves. He felt like he had to occupy his mind with something because thinking about Sammy felt like all of his oxygen was being squeezed out of him.

"I know you're worried," Jo offered. She didn't feel equipped for this situation. She didn't have the words. "Hey," she said absently. "I see her … she's coming this way with Dr. Rosen."

"What else do you see? What's your mom look like?" Jo turned her eyes toward Dean for a second.

"What? What is it?" Dean felt his heart miss a beat in his chest.

"She looks stressed," Jo offered bluntly. "They stopped," Jo continued her running commentary from her window vantage point.

"What are they doing?"

"Talking … wait I see people in surgical scrubs … they're taking Sam away on a gurney."

"What? Where? I want to know what the hell is happening," Dean yelled.

Ellen and Dr. Rosen heard Dean's shout from his room, and quickly hurried inside his room. "Dean," Ellen spoke first.

"Jo said she saw them taking Sam away … where? You can't cut him open again," Dean declared. Now Dr. Rosen spoke.

"Dean there's been a complication."

"No shit," Dean hissed.

"Dean," Ellen replied casting a stern look at Dean. "Watch your tongue."

"It's okay," The doctor tried to assure Ellen. He had heard much more colorful language from other family members over the years. He understood it was fear talking.

"Screw my language. He's my brother! I want to know what the hell is happening. Why are you taking him back to surgery?

"Based on some exams and stat blood tests we had to send him back in," the doctor began. "After a surgery and especially with a patient that has experienced bleeding and clotting problems…" he was cut off.

"I thought Sam's blood was clotting better. He's bleeding again?"

"No," Dr. Rosen replied. "His liver as you know sustained trauma and a portion of it was removed. Sam's surgeon Dr. Paquet believes Sam has thrown a massive clot inside his liver and has subsequently blocked his hepatic artery. If the artery isn't unblocked Sam will be die within the hour, most likely a lot less than that I'm afraid."

"He believes he has a blood clot," Dean accused.

"Dean, please just listen to the doctor," Ellen urged.

"Dean there are a number of tests that we can run and Dr. Paquet and myself both agree that Sam's liver functions are compromised to the point of imminent failure. He was already starting to show signs of severe jaundice, a yellowing appearance to his skin. I assure you that Sam would not be going back into surgery if it wasn't a matter of life and death." The doctor looked at Dean and decided to be blunt. "If the liver stops functioning completely and we believe Sam is dangerously close to that outcome due to the suspected clot … if the liver stops functioning death can and often does occur within thirty minutes." Dean's eyes widened.

"But," Dean couldn't speak anymore as his mind was too overwhelmed with everything he'd just been told. A paralyzing fear gripped him. Ellen saw the desperation. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder as she stood next to him.

"Dr. Rosen," she spoke. "How long until we hear something?"

"It's a delicate procedure. Dr. Paquet will have to dissect the artery to evacuate the clot and possibly repair the artery if damage occurred due to the clot. He will have to verify that the liver is profusing and when there is a blot clot present one must be very careful in extraction to prevent any of it breaking off and entering Sam's blood stream."

"Why?" Dean asked as he found his voice and strength under Ellen's strong grip on his shoulder.

"A loose clot in Sam's system could go to any number of places, his lungs, his heart causing a heart attack or even the brain causing a stroke. So, Dr. Paquet must be careful. The bit of luck Sam has had is the fact the clot is believed to be so large it was actually caught in the artery and didn't enter his system. Also, the fact he didn't develop another clot elsewhere that could have killed him within seconds."

"So, you're saying we could be in for another long wait?" Ellen questioned.

"Yes, afraid so, but when I get updates of any kind I'll personally notify you all, okay?" Ellen nodded. Jo sat along the wall and looked shell shocked. Dean simply stared at his folded hands no longer knowing what to do with the emotions battling inside his body. Dr. Rosen looked at his patient. "Dean," he spoke with a well practiced comforting voice. "I know this is a lot to deal with all at once, and that things just keep stacking up. Dr. Paquet will do everything he can to bring Sam through this. He's a good man and your brother's in the best hands he can be right now." Dean met eyes with the doctor, but said nothing. "Now," the doctor started again. "I'm going to have Cathy your nurse take your pressure again, okay. And, I know this is asking a lot, but I want you to try and rest and let your body heal."

**One Hour Later**

Jo was curled in a corner on a sleeping chair under a blanket. Ellen sat by Dean and simply tried to offer comfort and support by just being in close proximity. She wished he would sleep, but he only dozed in short naps. "Dean, Hun, please try to sleep. Your blood pressure is still too low, and you need to rest," she paused. "Just like Dr. Rosen said earlier, you need to let your body heal." Dean looked at her with haunted eyes.

"Let my body heal," his tone devoid of emotion. "Sammy's body is a wreck. He… he could be …" his voice hitched despite his effort to keep control. "He could be dying right now. It's my fault. We shouldn't have done that damn hunt. He's dying because of me." He lost the battle with his stoic nature and his face crumbled. He turned away from Ellen, so that she would see his tears. She reached over and took his hand in hers. She felt him tense, but he didn't pull away.

"You listen here," her voice was strong and emphatic. "Sam isn't going to die … you have to believe that. And, this hunt, it wasn't your fault." Dean turned his face and looked at her. She saw new tears brimming in his eyes and a level of anguish in his face that took her breath away.

"You don't know," he choked out. "You weren't there. It's my fault."

"Okay," she conceded. "Then tell me what happened," she urged. She knew Dean needed to talk whether he knew he realized it. She had to let him say his peace and then shoot as many holes in his reasoning as possible and then make him believe that Sam's injuries weren't his fault. "I'm waiting," she encouraged.

"Sammy said we needed to know more, but I was sure I knew how to handle it," Dean forced out of his tight throat. "We figured it was a wendigo that had been attacking the hikers and campers, but I under estimated it. I shouldn't have," Dean hissed. "We've hunted wendigo's before."

"What happened?"

"I made us follow a hiking path that had a recent attack. Of course the park service had up signs telling everyone there had been recent animal attacks. No big deal," Dean continued on as if on auto-pilot. "Sammy said the hunting patterns were off with this one that it seemed to hunt whenever it wanted because some people were attacked during the day and not at night like usual. I called him a geek and said he thinks too much," Dean's voice caught in his throat.

"He was right Ellen we shouldn't have gone into the woods like we did. That thing was hunting us the moment we entered the woods. I thought he was being dramatic about the day time attacks. I just didn't think it was important … you know flukes. The other attacks … all of them, but three were at night … I should have listened to him, but I…"

"Dean you can't blame yourself." Ellen suddenly felt at a loss. Dean glared at her.

"Yes, I can," Dean replied hotly. "Come on, Ellen who are we kidding here? It was an obvious change in pattern and I blew it off and Sammy paid for my fucking mistake."

"Dean, hunts can go bad so quickly even with the most prepared ones. It happened and now we deal with the fallout."

"We?" Dean hissed. "We don't have to deal with anything. Sammy's my family, my blood. Jesus, Ellen if he …" he took a shaking breath. "If he dies, I killed him. I killed my little brother." Ellen stood up abruptly and reached out taking Dean's chin roughly in her hand.

"Look at me boy," she demanded. "You haven't killed Sam. You saved him with the flare gun." Her voice and eyes softened. "Your brother is fighting Dean and you can't give up on him." Dean's jaw was tight and Ellen could see his muscles twitching. He met her eyes.

"I can't lose him," his admission was quiet and heart wrenching to Ellen's ears. "He's all I got." Dean's bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. Ellen wanted to say with absolute certainty that he wouldn't lose his only brother, his only family, but she couldn't.

"Dean, hun," she replied tentatively. "Sam survived the attack because of you; otherwise you would have both died. You gave him a chance. You have to tell yourself that. Fine, maybe the attack could have been prevented, maybe not." Ellen spoke with an assured tone. "But it happened and now we go from there, together, okay? You're not alone, you never will be," her voice steadfast. "You hearin' me boy?" Dean's nod was almost unperceivable, but Ellen had seen it.

"I can still hear him screaming," his voice sounded more like a small child than the young man in front of her eyes.

"Oh, hun," Ellen had no words now. And, before she could think about it or reconsider her decision to move forward she leaned down and wrapped her arms around Dean and hugged him to herself. Dean tensed and she held steady. Ellen felt Dean give into the physical touch and suddenly his emotions were given release and he cried in her shoulder and she held him. She held Dean tightly and she knew deep down that his tears were for Sammy, yes, but they were also for so much more and she held him as his crying hitched in his chest and sobbed. Dean Winchester was crying for his brother, his father, his mother, and a life held to the fire since he was four years old. "Shh," Ellen whispered as she stroked Dean's back with one hand while she held him tightly.

**Three Hours Later, the OR Hallway**

Dr. Rosen walked into the OR portion of the surgical unit intent on getting news about Sam when he learned the nearly four hour surgery had finally ended. He walked into the hallway that lie between the OR and the recovery room in time to see Dr. Paquet rip off his surgical mask balling it in his fist and throwing it into a biohazard bin as he muttered "Sonofabitch," under his breath not knowing that Dr. Rosen was behind him. The doctor knew the news wasn't good. He cleared his voice to get Dr. Paquet's attention. The doctor turned and met eyes with his colleague.

"Ron, how long have you been there?" Dr. Paquet regarded his friend.

"Long enough Mike," he replied. "Did you lose him on the table?" Dr. Paquet dropped his eyes and let out a sigh that seemed a combination of defeat and frustration.

"No, but almost," Dr. Paquet answered. "The kid's heart stopped again, it took a while to get him back. I came damn close to calling it, but then the last Epi finally kicked in and we were able to defib him back into a rhythm."

"But his liver," Dr. Rosen knew there was more. He knew his friend too well.

"I was able to remove the clot. We were right about it occluding the hepatic artery. It had caused a complete blockage. His liver is profusing fine now and the jaundice began abating as soon as the clot was removed."

"Come on Mike I know you to well … what is it?"

"He's weak Ron. The kid has been through too much. His vital signs aren't getting stronger…" Dr. Rosen interrupted his friend.

"He's not going to make it is he?"

"I think it'll take a miracle for him to survive until the sun comes up. Do you want me to talk to the family?"

"No," Dr. Rosen replied. "Dammit," he hissed. "I know you did everything Mike. The kid's just been through too much."

"Frankly, I'm surprised we even got a pulse back Ron. The kid is fighting so damn hard, but he's getting tired and …"

"He's starting to let go," he finished his friend's observation. Dr. Paquet nodded.

"Look if anything comes up … I'm on duty all night just page me," Dr. Paquet replied.

"Do you want me to page you when…" Dr. Rosen began and stopped.

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it. I don't know what it is about this kid, but I feel completely invested. I want to see it through."

"I know how you feel. But, the kid's older brother is going to take it hard. I talked to his aunt and apparently the boys lost their Dad a few months ago, and the mother has been dead since the youngest was a baby. There's no way his brother will just let him go quietly. He'll want us to do a full code on his brother when he arrests."

"Yeah," Dr. Paquet answered with a tired sigh. "Do what you have to … maybe it'll give his big brother some closure if he knows everything was done. Damn shame, really." Dr. Rosen nodded at his friend. "He'll be moved back to ICU in a few minutes. I'd keep him in recovery longer, but…"

"I know … let the family have time with him."

"He shouldn't die with strangers around him."

**Ten Minutes Later, the ICU, Dean's Room**

Dean was numb after Dr. Rosen had broken the news about his brother. Ellen was stoic and Jo sat unmoving staring at the floor. There weren't words. "He's not dying," Dean said suddenly. "I won't lose Sammy."

"Dean," Ellen wanted to tell him to hold on to that hope, but the doctor had been clear there was no hope. That Sam would likely die before the sun rose on a new day. "I know you want to believe …" Dean cut her off.

"Don't," he barked. "Not after all that damn pep talk you gave me about Sammy making it. You can't tell me he's gonna die … you don't get to say those words to me … not you!" Ellen dropped her eyes suddenly feeling like a hypocrite and that she had let Dean down in some way.

"They should be in here shortly to take you over to his room once he's settled," she replied deciding not to address Dean's previous comments to her.

"I want to see him alone," Dean spoke firmly. "The doc already said I could stay as long as I wanted."

"Jo and I will wait for you here," Ellen offered. She wanted to see Sam to visit with him too before … but she knew it wasn't her place and she'd not force herself into this. Sam was Dean's only family, his little brother and it was his sole right to be with him when he was released from this world and she wouldn't intrude. She felt a tremor work through her and she privately thought to herself, _I'll say goodbye to him before they take him away … after he's gone and Dean's back in his room_ … damn she hated this. Things hadn't seemed this wrong or upside down since William, her husband had died years ago. Too soon. Too much life left to live. It was simply wrong.

**One Hour Later, Sam's ICU Room**

The blinds on Sam's window opening up into the unit had been drawn and his door closed slightly allowing Dean privacy with his sibling. He stared at his brother's pale face as he had for the past hour and watched the mechanical rise and fall of is chest. Dean held Sam's hand between both of his own. He stared at the heart monitor and watched as Sam's heart struggled to beat. He knew a heart rate barely maintaining 50 was bad, and Sam's blood pressure was barely readable he had been told earlier.

"Sammy," Dean began after long moments of just watching his little brother. "I thought we had a deal," he began bluntly. "You know the Winchester brothers against the world." His chin trembled as he fought to say what he needed to while he held his fear, and ultimately his grief at bay. "It can't end like this Sammy. This isn't how it's supposed to be. It ain't right," he choked. "This shouldn't be happening to you." Dean lifted Sam's hand up and pressed it against his face. Sam's cool hand sent a shiver through Dean when it touched his warm cheek. Tears ran unchecked down Dean's face.

"Please," his voice was desperate. "You can't let go Sammy. I'm not letting you go," he asserted. "I can't do this without you. I don't want to." Dean gazed at his brother with agonized eyes. "Come on Sammy open your eyes prove them wrong. You're too stubborn to die." Dean cast a look at the heart monitor and saw Sam's heart rate had dropped even lower as it hovered between 46 and 48. Sam was slipping and Dean felt it. "No, Sammy," Dean's voice assertive. "Please," he begged again. The numbers dropped once more to 44 and Dean's resolve crumbled. Death was coming and he couldn't kill it, he couldn't fight it … Sammy was letting go and Dean felt so incredibly empty. Dean did the only thing he could he leaned forward forgetting his own physical pain and dropped his head onto his brother's shoulder. He held Sam's hand within his own. "Please, Sammy, don't do this," he pleaded. "I'm not gonna say its okay, I won't. It's not okay for you to let go. Please," his voice broke and a sob escaped. "Please …. stay," he choked out. "For me Sammy, stay for me."

Long minutes past and Dean stayed where he was … his head on Sam's shoulder holding his hand. "Please stay," had become a soft mantra. Dean's head jerked up suddenly when he felt the slightest pressure in his hand. He cast eyes to his brother, but Sam's face was the same, lax almost peaceful in its pale repose. He thought he'd imagined it. "Sammy?" And then he watched as fingers weakly twitched in his hand and curled ever so slightly around Dean's own.

Dean felt a mixture of panic and happiness. Was Sam saying goodbye or was this the miracle he had been praying for silently? He looked up at the heart monitor and smiled when he saw 61. "Sammy, I'm here," Dean practically cooed. He stroked his brother's bangs gently and rhythmically.

Sam heard his brother's voice distant at first and then closer. _Come on back Sammy. Fight. Keep fighting. I'm here. Sammy, don't leave me_ and he struggled against the darkness holding him and then he heard the words clearly through the dark and they showed him the way home, they showed him the way back to Dean, _Stay Sammy… stay for me_.

Dean watched as Sam's eyes fluttered. "That's it Sammy, open your eyes. I'm here," Dean encouraged. And, although the room was dim bathed only in the pale light creeping in through the blinds and slightly ajar door … Dean would have sworn he was standing in the rays of the strong afternoon sun as … Sam's eyes opened.

Dean smiled so wide his mouth hurt. He quieted Sam as he feebly resisted the ventilator. He was too weak to really even contest its intrusion in his throat. "Shh… it's okay. Hey, little brother, I'm here," he whispered softly as he stroked Sam's bangs. Sam's tired dark eyes focused on Dean and his big brother's comforting words. Dean didn't care that he felt tears slipping down his cheeks once again as he smiled softly at his brother. "Thanks for staying," he whispered quietly as he leaned in a kissed his little brother's forehead.

**To Be Continued**

**Well, I hope you liked that chapter and no cliffhanger. I have one chapter left and this story will be complete. Thanks for reading and I look forward to reading your reviews and thoughts.**

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	5. Quintessence

Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

**NOTE TO READERS:** Thanks once again for the review! I really have been surprised by the reader turnout for this story. I have received so many kind and enthusiastic reviews. I appreciate them all. There have been a few requests to keep going, but I had always intended for five chapters and I'm sticking with it. I sincerely hope you enjoy the final chapter. And, now with this story finished I'll be able to start another when the moment strikes. Thanks again for reading!

**Chapter Five**

**Quintessence**

By Dawn Nyberg

Dean smiled so wide his mouth hurt. He quieted Sam as he feebly resisted the ventilator. He was too weak to really even contest its intrusion in his throat. "Shh… it's okay. Hey, little brother, I'm here," he whispered softly as he stroked Sam's bangs. Sam's tired dark eyes focused on Dean and his brother's comforting words. Dean didn't care that he felt tears slipping down his cheeks once again as he smiled softly at his brother. "Thanks for staying," he whispered quietly as he leaned in and kissed his little brother's forehead.

**Three Hours Later**

Dean had adamantly refused to leave his brother's side. Dr. Rosen and Dr. Paquet had both been in to see Sam and exam him. Dean smiled down at his sleeping brother. Sam had the entire ICU unit talking about him and his miracle survival. Ellen and Jo had both been in to see Sam briefly, but Ellen had still been hesitant to intrude. Sam was incredibly weak and Dr. Rosen had said he was _guardedly optimistic_ about Sam's condition. Sam stirred and Dean stroked his thumb across his brother's forehead trying to offer some comfort as he woke slowly. He still wasn't able to speak because of the breathing tube. Dr. Rosen had deemed Sam not ready to come off the ventilator just yet, but that they would try weaning him slowly over the next few days.

"Sammy?" Dean leaned in close and whispered. He watched his brother's dark eyes open and regard his big brother softly. He couldn't speak, but his eyes spoke volumes to Dean. "Hey there kiddo," he greeted. Sam squeezed his brother's hand gently. "You're going to be fine Sammy," Dean encouraged. "It's okay to close your eyes. You need to rest. I'll be here." And, he watched his little brother's eyes slide closed and he resumed his gentle stroking of his brother's forehead and bangs. He felt compelled to keep some form of contact with Sam, as if he thought in losing that physical link he'd lose Sam and he'd slip away.

**One Week Later**

Dean had been officially released, but Sam was still in the ICU. Ellen and Jo had moved to a local extended stay hotel across the street from the hospital. The place was mostly filled with families that had a loved one in the hospital. Ellen had asked a family friend to keep tabs on the roadhouse in her absence. She had no intention of leaving Tempe until both of the boys could. She had forced Dean to take care of himself, so that he could be there for his brother. Dean had a room next door to Ellen and Jo not that he was there much. He showered and slept for a handful of hours and would be right back by Sam's bedside. Mostly, though he opted to sleep in a chair in Sam's room.

Sam had had a lot of difficulty coming off the ventilator. Dr. Rosen had assured that the contusions to Sam's lungs and his weakened condition were the cause. Sam's vent settings had been changed over the last few days where he had partial ventilation, but was taking breath's on his own too. It was still worrisome to Ellen that he still had the breathing tube though and she'd be glad to see it gone. She also knew that Dean most assuredly was 100 times more bothered by the fact his little brother was still having his breathing assisted. However, despite everything Sam made improvements each day. They had been little at first. Perhaps, his blood pressure had come up or his heart rate stayed above the 60's. They all took what they could get. But, it wasn't until the sixth day that they had all been excited when Sam's blood counts had finally normalized and his liver enzymes had been given the green light. Sam was healing. Sam was living.

**Two Weeks Later **

"Sammy calm down," Dean asserted as Dr. Rosen stood nearby. "Sam I know its hard, but just take deep slow breath's its okay." Dean watched Sam struggle to take a decent breath. The doctor had removed the breathing tube a short while ago and Sam struggled.

Sam turned panicked eyes to his big brother. It felt like he was trying to breathe while someone sat on his chest. His diaphragm struggled inside his chest and the effort to take in a full, clean breath was causing him to panic. There was a trace of beaded sweat on his forehead. His pulse OX monitor had started to beep. Dean turned wide scared eyes to the doctor. "He can't breathe," he barked. "It was too soon." Dr. Rosen stepped forward.

"Sam," his voice was gentle yet commanding. "This is normal," he assured. "Look you need to calm down. Your muscles for breathing are a little weak after being on the ventilator. It's just going to take time. Easy…" he encouraged. He watched Sam's oxygen levels continue to drop and his concern peaked. "Dammit," he hissed.

"What? What is it?" Dean shouted in alarm.

"Calm down Sam," the doctor ordered as he lowered Sam's bed and grabbed an ambu bag and placed it over Sam's face and began squeezing the bag giving Sam extra ventilation. "Easy," he encouraged. "If you calm down you'll be able to breathe easier. Sam I don't want to have to intubate you again. Come on try. Dean," the doctor said and looked pointedly at the young man. Dean stepped up.

"Listen to the doc Sammy. You don't want that tube down your throat again, do you?" Sam managed to shake his head as he continued to struggle. He had clamed down a little when Dr. Rosen began ventilating him. "Easy Sammy," Dean urged. "That's it," Dean smiled as he watched Sam calm himself and try to concentrate on his breathing. Dr. Rosen removed the ambu bag from Sam and studied his oxygen levels. He reached over and put an oxygen mask over Sam's face.

"That's it Sam," Dr. Rosen encouraged. "Now just let the oxygen help you okay. You've got this. You're doing fine."

"Dean," Sam rasped out and winced at the pain it caused. It was his first word since having the tube removed a short twenty minutes ago.

"Hey," Dean smiled. "You might want to take it easy on the talking … your throat might be a little sore."

"Your brother's right Sam. The breathing tube was in place for two weeks, so you're going to be tender for a few days. You can talk, but just don't go giving any speeches in the next few days, okay?" Dean offered his brother a reassuring smile.

"'Kay," Sam whispered through a wince. Dean just rolled his eyes at his stubborn brother.

**Another Two Weeks Later**

Dean walked toward Sam's hospital room. He had been moved from ICU over a week and a half ago into a regular room on the critical care floor. Today was Sam's release day and Dean could feel the anticipation of it in his gut. His little brother had been in the hospital an entire month and now he was finally able to have him back officially. Dean walked into Sam's room.

"You need some help Sammy," Dean saw his brother struggling with his button down shirt he was wearing out of the hospital.

"Nah, I got it," Sam answered with a sheepish smile. He turned his attention toward his gym shoes on the floor as soon as he had his shirt sufficiently buttoned. Dean chuckled.

"There's no way you can bend to get them kiddo. The doc said your outer sutures have dissolved, but that you can't do any major bending or lifting for another month. Here let me help." Dean grabbed the shoes from the floor easily. Sam looked pensive. "What?" Dean asked with an innocent face. "Come on give me your left foot," Dean pulled a cotton sock out of the shoe and put it on his brother's foot.

"Dean I'm not a kid. I can manage someway or the other," Sam complained. Dean smiled and couldn't resist making a plane noise as he started to put his brother's foot in the shoe.

"Come on the little plane needs to go in the hanger," Dean laughed. Sam shoved his foot into the shoe. "Oof," Dean grumbled. "What was that for?"

"You have to ask?" Sam gave his older brother an incredulous look. Dean offered a mild smile.

"Okay, fair enough, but you can't blame me." The other sock and shoe were put on without any humorous preambles.

"Where are Ellen and Jo?" Sam asked. He had been glad that Ellen was around mostly because he could see her being around seemed to make Dean less tense. He knew she had taken care of a lot while both he and Dean had been in the hospital, but most of all he knew Ellen had been there for his big brother when the doctors had thought all hope was lost and had told Dean to basically prepare himself for his brother's death.

"In the lobby," Dean answered as he helped Sam with putting on a light jacket. "So, you okay with us staying at the roadhouse for a while?"

"Yeah, if you are," Sam offered. "You know we could stay at a motel Dean. I'm cool." Dean shook his head. He wasn't blind. Sam was pale and shaky. He needed home cooking and a real bed. A crusty old motel wasn't where Sam needed to heal. His brother was still on pain meds and antibiotics. The doctor had also prescribed one very fat horse pill of a multivitamin for Sam, as well. The antibiotics were only for another week, but the pain meds and vitamin were another story.

"Nah, Sammy, I'm good. We worked things out remember I told you we did," Dean assured. Sam nodded. "Look we're staying at a hotel across the street for a couple days, so you can rest and the doc can see you one last time and then we'll go to the roadhouse. Are you going to be okay on the drive?"

"I'll be fine," Sam assured. "Are we all driving back together," Sam smirked remembering the last time all four of them had been in the Impala together. It wasn't pleasant, but then again that had been a different circumstance.

"What?" Dean chirped. "Hell no," he assured. "Ellen and Jo are going to fly out the day before you and I check out of the hotel. Ellen said something about wanting to get things ready."

"Ready? Geez, Dean I don't want to put anyone out. It's not like an invalid or something."

"No, I know," Dean agreed. "Ellen knows too, but dude, you gotta cut us some slack. I mean, you lost a part of your liver man, and had more than one major surgery."

"Dr. Rosen said my liver would heal completely."

"Yeah, but you still had a piece an organ chopped out dude … humor me, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam conceded. An orderly showed up with a wheelchair in the doorway with Dr. Rosen and Dr. Paquet behind him.

"I just wanted to make sure you had his discharge care notes. These list his limitations and how long he should keep from doing certain things. I spoke with your aunt and she gave me the name of a local physician who I spoke with about your follow up care and appointments once you're back in Nebraska."

"Thanks for everything doc," Sam smiled.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean replied with his own smile. Sam looked around Dr. Rosen to Dr. Paquet.

"I wanted to thank you too, Dr. Paquet … you know for saving my life in surgery," Sam extended his hand. The surgeon smiled and took Sam's hand.

"I just cut and stitched Sam," he assured. "You're the one that pulled off the miracle. You saved yourself." The doctor glanced at Dean and smiled. "Although, I think you may have had some help." Dean dropped his eyes momentarily as Sam and the doctor's looked at him. Sam gave a small laugh.

"Yeah, I know you're right about that," he popped his big brother on the shoulder with an open hand and a lopsided grin. Dean felt warm at the sight of his little brother's lopsided dimpled grin.

**Three Weeks Later, the Roadhouse**

"Sam honey, I'm not talkin' to a wall. I know you hear me," Ellen complained as she watched Sam sweeping the floor in the main part of the roadhouse.

"I hear you," Sam relented. "I can sweep a floor," he groused.

"That's not what Dr. Peters in town said. "He said nothing strenuous or labor intensive for another couple weeks."

"I just can't sit on my ass," Sam offered bluntly. Ellen offered a rueful smile.

"That's exactly what you can do, and will do," she asserted. Dean walked into the main room through the swinging door that led from the kitchen carrying a box of beer from the freezer. It was Friday and they were always busy on Friday nights, so he was getting stocked before opening. He had felt compelled to help out around the roadhouse as much as Ellen would let him since he and Sammy had been staying. But, he knew Sam needed this right now, and as soon as he was ready to return to the open road he'd take his little brother out of here. "Let's ask you're brother," Ellen threw a hard look to Dean. The eldest Winchester sibling glanced at his younger brother and saw the broom.

"Now, Sammy," he began in a matter of fact voice. "I know you're not stupid and you heard the same thing I did about what the doc said you shouldn't be doing … and that includes sweeping and stuff. Damn just sit and relax while you can. I don't need you setting back your recovery. Go talk geek stuff with Ash."

"I heard that," drifted into the main room of the roadhouse from the direction of Ash's back room. Dean chuckled.

Dean walked over and took the broom from his brother's hands with a sympathetic look. "Alright, I get it okay? You're climbing the walls, but you gotta take it easy and maybe in a couple weeks the doc will be ready to loosen the reins a little." Dean offered. Sam offered a reluctant nod.

"Sam, sweetie," Ellen's voice softened at the younger man's crestfallen look. "How about you help me in the kitchen? How are you with a knife?" She asked with a glint in her eye. And, as Sam passed her to go into the kitchen she met eyes with Dean and winked. He mouthed a silent 'thanks' to her and went about finishing with stocking the beer.

**A Month and a Half Later**

"I don't want you boys to be strangers, you hear me?" Ellen and Jo stood side by side as Dean finished closing the trunk to the Impala.

"We'll call and touch base, I promise," Sam offered.

"Yeah," Dean came to stand next to his brother. "Yeah, we will." Dean gave a small smile to Ellen and Jo. "Look," he began. "Um, Ellen thanks for everything you know." She understood that the thank you was for so much more than just letting them stay at the roadhouse. She smiled.

"No problem. You boys always have a place when you need it," she paused. "You don't need an excuse to come, okay? The door is always open."

Both brothers nodded. She moved in quickly and gave them both a quick hug and pat on the back.

"Bye guys," Jo replied.

"Yeah, bye Jo," Dean answered. Sam simply smiled and nodded. "We'll see ya around," he offered lightly. "You ready Sammy," Dean asked.

"Yep," Sam answered opening the passenger door. "We promise to keep in touch Ellen," he assured. He leaned in and offered the woman another hug as Dean walked around to the driver's side of the car. "Thanks for taking care of him," he whispered in her ear as he pulled away. She patted him gently.

Dean looked over at Sam as they pulled away causing the dust to billow up around the car wrapping it in tendrils of fine dirt.

"You sure you're ready?" Dean asked meeting his little brother's eyes as the road opened up before them. He felt good to be back out on the road, but part of him was afraid for the next hunt whenever that occurred. He couldn't handle it if something happened to Sam.

"I'm good," Sam assured. "The doc said so."

"I know what he said Sammy and it wasn't exactly a free pass to run a marathon. You're still supposed to hold off on running and major stuff for another month or so."

"Look if you're going to stress out on whether I'm ready to be out again then let's just go back to the roadhouse until I can do everything." Sam huffed. Dean sighed. He wanted to have Sam to himself for a change and he had missed that over the past couple months or so. First the hospital had him and then Ellen … sure he had taken care of most of Sam's needs while they were at the roadhouse, but he hadn't had Sam under his sole care and he missed it.

"No, I don't want to go back there. Not for a while," Dean assured. "We'll just take it easy, okay? It's just … Sam …" he pulled off onto the shoulder of the vacant road and put the car in park.

"Dean," Sam stopped his brother from saying anything else. He looked at his big brother with warm soulful eyes. There was a long pause in the car and neither spoke. Sam bridged the gap of silence with an unexpected statement. "It wasn't your fault." Dean's head jerked toward his brother at his words.

"Sammy," Dean pushed out through his tight throat.

"No, Dean," Sam replied. "I mean it. It wasn't your fault. It happened and its over, but it wasn't your fault."

"I almost got you killed."

"No, a wendigo almost killed me, but you killed it and even with a severe concussion you still shot that ugly mother with a flare gun and saved my ass."

"Stupid luck," Dean hissed.

"Luck had nothing to do with it Dean. I didn't die in those woods because of you. It wasn't your fault."

"But…"

"No but, Dean," Sam smiled. There was another moment of silence. "I heard you that night you know or at least I think I did." Sam's sentence was out of context and Dean wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"Heard what? What night?"

"I was in the dark, maybe it was a dream. You sounded really far away, but the more I concentrated on hearing you I could tell you were getting closer," Sam looked at Dean and their eyes met. "You were telling me to fight, but what I remember came through the clearest was you asked me to stay … to stay for you." Dean turned his face away suddenly as he felt hot tears stinging his eyes. And, his mind tried to process the fact that his little brother had heard him that night when he was near death. "Dean?" Sam studied his brother's turned head. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean's voice was rough as he held his emotions in check as much as he could.

"You sure?" Dean nodded and turned his face back toward his brother. Sam could see the glassy eyes, but no tears had broken free.

"I'm sure," he smiled. "You ready?"

"I was born ready," Sam quipped with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, you stealin' my material little brother?" Sam laughed as his brother pulled back onto the road. Dean reached over and flipped Sam in the ear.

"Ouch," He yelled as he rubbed his ear. "What the hell was that for?" It was Dean's turn to laugh now.

"Don't know," he offered. "I figure I owe you for something I forgot about," he offered with a wide grin.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Three hours later on the open highway Dean glanced at his sleeping brother and smiled. The brief thought that he could be looking at an empty seat right now sent a chill though him, but the cold was quickly dissipated because he hadn't lost his light, he hadn't lost his Sammy. The shadows in his soul drew back once again under the presence of his little brother and he accepted the warmth.

**The End**

**I hope you liked the ending of this story. I managed to keep to my five chapter goal. Thanks in advance for your thoughts and reviews. And, once again, thanks to everyone that has taken the time to leave a review for any of the previous chapters. I appreciate it.**

**READ and REVIEW!**


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